The Rules
by Red Bess Rackham
Summary: Donna doesn't write the rules down. She memorized them the day they left the diner, bound for Pearson-Hardman. Or, the one where Donna has wine with Rachel and contemplates being in love with Harvey. (Harvey/Donna. Oneshot)


_A/n: Yep. I have more. Thank you to Stars, who once again awesomely betaed even though she doesn't even go here. :D (This is #3 of a series of unrelated Harvey/Donna oneshots. Enjoy!)  
_

 _Timeline:_ _set S3E13 – 16, somewhere around "Moot Point" to "No Way Out"_

* * *

 **The Rules**

Donna doesn't write the rules down. She memorized them the day they left the diner, bound for Pearson-Hardman.

 _Rule #1: No sleeping with anyone you work with, ever, for any reason._

Not a problem. They had their one night in between gigs, and them as a _Them_ was over before it began. She's never been that kind of girl, and he's never been that kind of guy—or, at least, he isn't now. She never decided if he was that kind of guy back in their DA office days or if she was just the exception.

Frankly, she likes thinking she was the exception, because she's goddamn fabulous.

 _Rule #2: No getting involved with each other in a manner that is not coworker- or friend-related, ever._

 _Rule #3: No, seriously, not ever._

There've been a few close calls over the years, but they've upheld the rules. She has to call on him on his bullshit sometimes (a lot) and verbalize what he's feeling for him sometimes (yeah, also a lot, because he's the most emotionally unaware person she's ever met) but she doesn't mind. It's just how they are together.

So, if she has to sit him down and explain that _he actually cares about people_ like Scottie and Mike and even Louis, then she will. Donna knows his history and his trust issues, knows what a good man he really is, even if he's often determined to pretend otherwise. She has watched him go through so much, and she gets where he's coming from like nobody else does.

Also, she's not bragging, but she totally has a gift for that sort of thing. Just saying.

 _Rule #4: No falling in love with each other._

This one's shakier. There has been several near misses along the way, and, if she's being completely honest, a number of days when she can't help wondering if Harvey's broken this one. But she can act ignorant and steer him in different directions. He's never made a move, never said a word, so as far as she's concerned, he's never broken rule four.

On her side of things? Well. That's a different story.

This, of course, goes back to Donna's own private rules, created the day she met him at the DA's office, with those gorgeous dark brown eyes and knee-melting grin.

 _Rule #1: Do not fall in love with Harvey Specter._

And of course, she broke that in, like, three days, so more rules developed.

 _Rule #1.5: Do not let anyone know you fell in love with Harvey Specter._

She's kept a handle on that. People constantly ask her over the years—because _heaven forbid_ they work in close quarters for a decade and not be madly in love—and the more she says she doesn't love him like that or delivers the whole "like a brother" speech, the easier it gets. She could even believe it herself, and most days, she does.

 _Rule #2: Let go of those feelings and_ get over _him._

Screw that rule. Four years after the fact and she'd still desperately trying. She even helped set him up on a few dates, thinking that would do the trick. Of course, that just meant she went home and cried into some ice cream instead of being a badass, which she _always_ otherwise was.

So, in came her own personal rule numero three:

 _Since Rule #2 is a stupid, useless rule that is not working for shit, here's Rule #3: Put the feelings into a box, never open it again, the end. Be happy for him and happy for yourself._

She is very, very good at that one. Coming up on their twelfth anniversary, and she can toast Harvey with champagne, grab the can opener, and encourage him to date the hot waitress from the new restaurant down the street without even a flicker of doubt, guilt, jealousy, any of it.

Okay, so maybe there is a _flicker_ , because the box maybe has some holes, or at least she can't forget that it's there. But nobody ever needs to know that, least of all Harvey, so Donna carries on and helps Harvey however, whenever she can.

She's used to her feelings being one-sided and, even if they weren't, she's not willing to lose this job or his friendship, and she knows he isn't either. She resigned herself to this something like five years ago, and it's why she can date and watch him date, and not dissolve into tears over it anymore. She wants him to be happy, with or without her.

The box stays closed.

This week, though, as Harvey flies around trying to manage things among Jessica, Louis, Mike, and Scottie, Donna watches and comes to a decision by the following Monday. Because she knows him inside and out, better than he knows himself, she silently creates Rule #4:

 _Get him to open the fuck up to Scottie, so one of us can finally be happy._

* * *

Inevitably, because Harvey isn't the only idiot at the firm right now (apparently), Rule #4 blows up.

Donna gets into her car, intending to go home, but instead she ends up at Rachel's. She doesn't feel like being alone right now—and if she goes home, she'll end up wallowing, raging, or both.

She can't say Harvey didn't try. For once, he actually let someone in, and she hasn't seen him do that in _years_. But damn him for doing it too late or the wrong way, or whatever made Scottie leave again.

 _Damn Scottie, too,_ Donna thinks savagely, pulling up in front of Rachel's building. Damn her for not seeing how hard Harvey was actually trying. Or for not understanding how much it meant that he told her about Mike's secret, or whatever the hell else her problem was. How could she claim to love him and yet not understand him?

 _Screw Scottie and Darby and Mike and this whole goddamn mess._

Donna sighs. She's tired and cranky and hurting. She wants Harvey to be happy, sometimes so much it physically aches, deep in her chest. Tonight, seeing the look on his face when he told her Scottie was gone, is one of those nights. She would never hurt him like that, were she in Scottie's position. Not once, not ever.

Earlier, Donna actually had to shut herself in the file room for half an hour so that she didn't follow Scottie to the airport and physically drag her back to him. Frankly, she's still tempted, but she is already _way_ past her limit of how much she should be involved in Harvey's love life, rules or no rules.

She knocks on Rachel's door and belatedly realizes that she should have called ahead—for starters, it's late, and Rachel probably has Mike over anyways.

"Shit," Donna mumbles, and turns around to walk away.

This—this is why she made the rule about not getting involved, because it throws her completely off, and she should never be off. Harvey is the only one who can do that to her so completely and not even know he's doing it. She shouldn't be bugging Rachel or fuming about Scottie or desperate to fix Harvey's life or acutely feeling those holes in the unopened box...

"Donna?"

And she was almost at the end of the hall, too.

"Rachel, hi, sorry," Donna says, pushing on a smile, hoping Rachel won't see through her. "I didn't mean to just, um…" She throws her hand up helplessly. She's too tired and should've gone straight home.

Rachel's eyebrows dip with concern. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, you know what, it's fine. I didn't mean to bother you. I should've called. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Donna. C'mon." Rachel nods her head to the side, indicating Donna follow, and disappears inside. Donna sighs again, but takes the invitation.

"Mike's not here tonight," Rachel adds, already cracking open a bottle of wine. She sneaks a glance past her dark hair at Donna—her _I'm Not Gonna Push You But You're Gonna Tell Me What Happened_ face.

"Scottie left," Donna says flatly, hanging up her coat. There's no point beating around the bush.

She's never explained the depth of her hugely complex emotions for Harvey to anyone, but Rachel has always sensed beyond the tip of the iceberg anyway.

"Donna, I'm so sorry," she says, wincing, passing her a glass of red.

They migrate to the couch and Donna kicks off her heels, shooting an envious glance at Rachel's pajama pants and cotton tee. Donna sips her wine and sighs through her nose.

"I just...I want him to be happy. Really, honestly happy." That familiar ache seeps through her.

"I know," Rachel replies.

"Do you know how good it's been to see him find a best friend in Mike? To actually put _himself_ at risk to keep him around? I don't think anybody gets how huge that is—Harvey doesn't _do_ that."

She shakes her head and sips her wine. Rachel waits her out.

"And then to see him actually _trying_ to have a real relationship with Scottie, really caring about her…and now they're both leaving him behind and I just..." She breaks off.

The ache gets worse.

"I know," Rachel says, reaching out and to give Donna's forearm a comforting squeeze.

After a long contemplative silence where Donna starts to worry she's wallowing despite Rachel's sympathy, Rachel starts telling her about things with Mike—random stories and little anecdotes and a fight they had the other day. Donna knows she's doing it to steer the conversation away from Harvey, and she's grateful. A bottle of wine later, they're gabbing about work, and Donna fills Rachel in on several juicy bits of gossip.

By two in the morning, they both keep acknowledging they need to get to sleep, but they have more wine, and somehow by three, they're watching a _Friends_ marathon. Donna's almost fallen asleep when Rachel nudges her.

"Donna, have you ever thought that...maybe he could be happy with you?"

Donna doesn't answer for a really long time, absently watching Chandler rebuff Phoebe and declare he loves Monica. She sighs and sets her empty glass on the coffee table.

"All the time," she murmurs. "And that's the problem."

Rachel, already asleep on the couch beside her, doesn't reply.

 **-end-**


End file.
